Come on, boy!
Chestnuts! I've got some lovely, hot chestnuts!
Mr. Bobster! Good evening. How pleasant to see you.
Here we are, Mr. Bobster. Your favorite.
Mr. Bobster, are you all right, sir?
It was a cold, snowy day in early December.
Lack of funds had forced my old school to close.
I was being sent to a new one in the middle of term.
I was accustomed to the open, relaxed expanse of the country,
and now, I was in the heart of London, at the height of the Victorian era.
The streets were teeming with every activity imaginable.
I was very taken by what I saw.
As I stepped from my carriage,
the sight of my new school filled me with fear and apprehension.
And yet, I was swept with a wave of curiosity.
However, nothing could prepare me
for the extraordinary adventure that lay ahead,
or the extraordinary individual who would change my life.
There you are, sir.
Stop!
Isn't it valuable?
What's more important, its value or my sanity?
I should have mastered the damn thing by now.
-How long have you been playing? -Three days.
Well, perhaps you should be patient.
You're the new boy.
Yes, I've transferred from another school.
-My name is... -Wait.
Let me.
Your name is James Watson.
You're from the north of England,
your father is a doctor,
you spend a considerable amount of leisure time writing,
and you have a particular fondness for custard tarts. Am I correct?
My name isn't James, it's John.
James, John, what's the difference?
A great deal.
Very well, so your name is John.
How did I do on the others?
You were correct.
On every count.
How is it done? Is it some sort of magic trick?
No magic, Watson. Pure and simple deduction.
The name tag on your mattress reads "J Watson."
Watson. J
I selected the most common name that begins with "J," James.
Or John, that would have been my second choice.
Of course.
Your particular style of shoes are not made in the city.
I've only encountered them once before
during a brief visit to the north of England.
The middle finger of your left hand is indented with a callus,
the trademark of a writer.
And you were carrying a Hunters Encyclopedia of Disease,
a handbook not available to the general public, only to practicing physicians.
Since someone of your age obviously hasn't been to medical school,
I concluded that it was given to you by an older person,
someone very dear to you, who is concerned for your health.
Your father, the doctor.
And the custard tarts?
Simple.
There's a distinct stain of yellow custard on your lapel.
That particular color of custard is used in the making of custard tarts, and...
well, your shape convinced me that you've eaten many of them before.
There's no need to be rude.
Come on. We haven't got all day.
Hang on, where are we going?
You wouldn't want to miss chemistry class, would you?
By the way, what's your name?
Holmes. Sherlock Holmes.
The deductive mind never rests, Watson.
It's not unlike a finely-tuned musical instrument.
It demands attention and practice.
How does one go about fine-tuning a mind?
Problems of logic, mathematical equations, riddles.
For example, Watson, you're seated in a room with an all-southern view.
Suddenly, a bear walks by the window. What color is the bear?
Red. The bear is red.
Why on earth would the bear be red?
The southern sun is very hot. The bear would be terribly burnt!
That's the most absurd answer I've ever heard.
To successfully conclude the experiment--
The experiment--
The experiment...
To reiterate experiment 14...
"Throw a small piece of potassium onto some water.
The liquid will be rapidly decomposed
and so violent will be the action that a large amount of light..."
Thank you. He's being particularly boring today.
"The result is the production of potassium alkyl-- pot as--
Which will be dissolved..."
That was a girl.
Brilliant deduction, Watson.
Well, who is she? And what's she doing in a boys' school?
Her name's Elizabeth.
Following the death of her parents a few years ago,
she came to live on school grounds with her uncle,
a retired Brompton schoolmaster.
"...such is modified by circumstances.”
Elizabeth was just admiring my new timepiece.
Would you like to see?
Very interesting.
All of the stylish gentlemen are wearing them.
Expensive?
I bought it in Bond Street.
I find that highly unlikely.
I beg your pardon?
Had you taken a moment to examine the face,
you'd have discovered that it is notably French in style.
Yet according to this inscription,
the exterior was manufactured in Switzerland.
Yes, my suspicion was correct.
The works are obviously Italian in origin.
Congratulations, Dudley, your stylish timepiece is a fraud.
Keep your opinions to yourself, Holmes.
I look forward to resuming our conversation...
when there's a little more privacy.
Why did you do that?
Dudley's a pompous ass.
-He's very sweet. -Oh, really?
Is that why you were standing so close to him, flirting with him,
letting him dribble all over your hand?
Do I detect a sense of jealousy?
Sherlock Holmes, jealous?
My dear, that word does not enter my vocabulary.
Neither does punctuality.
I see. You're angry because I'm late.
As always.
I'm sorry, but I can explain.
I understand. You had something more important.
How can you say that?
I was...
Forgive me.
Elizabeth, let me introduce you to my new friend...
the honorable, but clumsy, Watson.
The ladder's a bit wobbly.
-Hello. -How do you do?
Elizabeth!
Holmes!
I think I've solved all of the problems!
-Who's that? -My uncle.
Rupert T. Waxflatter, retired schoolmaster.
Degrees in chemistry and biology,
well-versed in philosophy, mathematics and physics.
Author of 27 books.
Incredible.
And most people think he's a lunatic.
Why?
Oh, my God.
A very hopeful sign.
Very hopeful.
Let me see, that makes six! Six failed attempts!
Nevertheless, we shall not be defeated. We shall conquer.
I have made up my mind.
The conquest of the skies is well within my grasp.
He's done this six times?
I live here with Uncle.
After he retired, the school gave him the attic as a workplace.
It's incredible.
I've spent many happy hours here.
He's taught me more than ten schoolmasters put together.
Uncas. Say hello to Watson.
Say hello, Uncas.
Say hello.
Watson, he's not a parrot.
Have you found the weakness, sir?
I constructed the wings out of an inferior material.
I shall have to rebuild the entire machine.
The entire machine? Won't that be difficult?
Elementary, my dear Holmes. Elementary.
You'll have to excuse me.
Come on, come on, come on.
I've got it, Holmes. The bear is black.
What's that, old chap?
The bear in the riddle, it's a black bear.
Wrong again, Watson.
I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't disturb me
while I'm trying to concentrate on the lesson.
Are you all right, Penthurst?
I think I've sprained my ankle, sir.
Mrs. Dribb, will you attend to him, please?
Gentlemen, we cannot permit ourselves lapses in concentration.
We must work on technique, on rhythm, and on balance.
I can think of no better pupil to help me illustrate
proper form and technique than Holmes.
Study our stance, our movements and our style.
En garde.
Touché.
My game, Holmes.
Now, gentlemen...
Mr. Holmes lost because of one important factor.
His emotions took over. He ignored discipline.
Never replace discipline with emotion.
Well played, Holmes.
Per Christum Dominum Nostrum, amen.
Amen.
I want to enlist in the army. A general.
Generals don't make any money.
I would prefer to be an author.
Authors don't make money.
- I want to be a barrister. -Barristers make money.
I want to be a doctor.
Nobody asked you.
-Sorry. -Holmes, what about you?
What do you want to be when you grow up?
I never want to be alone.
Uncas!
Uncas.
Why did you do that?
You left me all alone.
There we go.
Hello, is anybody there?
Get out of the way!
Holmes is going to solve the crime!
Holmes is going to solve a crime!
-What did he say? -Come on!
-Let's go! -Holmes is going to solve a crime.
Did you hear? Holmes is going...
It was the beginning of my second week at Brompton.
With each passing day,
my fascination with Sherlock Holmes and his world continued to grow.
On this occasion, the entire school was bursting with excitement.
Dudley had challenged Holmes
to a test of ingenuity, skill and perception.
Dudley had snatched the school's fencing trophy
and hidden it in a secret place.
He gave Holmes 60 minutes to find the trophy.
Holmes accepted the challenge with confidence.
-The game is afoot! -Hooray!
Good luck, Holmes!
Good luck!
There he is!
But this is truly despicable!
Imagine, a cultured student acting like a chimpanzee!
Mr. Snelgrove, he's just having a bit of fun.
I'm sure that you can still remember what fun was.
Fun...
Besides, this Holmes boy is too precocious,
too egotistical for his own good.
He'll never find that trophy.
-I'll wager a guinea he does. -Done.
Excuse me.
Holmes, you've only got one minute.
Holmes, you've only got--
I heard you the first time! Can't you see I'm trying to concentrate?
Only seconds left, Holmes. I assume you're giving up?
Never assume anything, my good fellow.
But Holmes, I see no sign of a trophy.
But I do.
Stop!
Holmes, have you gone mad? This is an antique!
Hooray!
It was a wonderful, heroic moment for Holmes.
But little could he know
that his amazing powers and talents would soon be put to a much greater test.
A test of terrifying and deadly proportions.
I came through the skylight into the kitchen.
I gave them quite a fright.
Anyway, it was then that I noticed the particles beneath the oven.
Particles of freshly-baked ceramic.
Quite odd for a kitchen used only to prepare student meals.
So, the clues, red and green paint, ceramic.
As I pondered the question, I kicked the remaining snow from my shoe.
As the snow crumbled, my shoe was revealed.
The image struck a chord.
-You heard music? -Watson, you buffoon!
I'm talking about a parallel,
the parallel between my foot encased in snow
and the trophy encased in some sort of ceramic, a jar, a vase.
-Painted with red and green paint. -Exactly, Watson.
Holmes!
This time I've definitely solved the problem!
He's going to fly again.
-Mr. Lestrade? -Holmes!
It's been a long time, what, three or four days since your last visit?
This will only take a minute of your time.
There are no murder reports for you to study,
no casebooks you haven't already read, old boy.
I'm not here for research.
-I believe I'm on to something. -Not again.
This time I'm certain of it.
Really? Just like last month when you were convinced
that the French ambassador had embezzled £300,000 from the Bank of England?
I was close. It was the Russian ambassador.
Holmes, please!
I don't have time for any more of your playpen crimes.
Just have a quick look at these.
A suicide. A carriage accident.
I suspect foul play.
Why? The two incidents are completely unrelated.
Wrong. Both men graduated from the same university in 1809.
Coincidence.
Neither of their deaths fit their personalities.
According to his obituary, Bobster was a happy man,
content with his life, his career and his family.
Why would he commit suicide? He didn't even leave a note.
And Reverend Nesbitt is described by friends as "warm, loving, peaceful.”
And yet, the carriage driver insists he was crazed, insane, in a state of panic
-when he ran out into the street. -Holmes.
A mere fluctuation of character is hardly sufficient evidence
to begin an investigation.
And if you want my advice,
you'll keep your nose out of The Times and into your school books.
I appreciate your time, Mr. Lestrade.
I suggest you hold on to these.
If I were a detective sergeant trapped in this room all day,
and up to my neck in boring paperwork,
I would be doing everything in my power to seek out that one case,
that one investigation
that could promote me to inspector.
Good day, Holmes.
Holmes!
What are you doing?
Dudley dropped this. I was just giving it back to him.
- I beg your pardon? -Your paper.
What? It doesn't belong to me.
You dropped it.
It isn't even my handwriting.
Give it...
These are the exam answers.
Well, Holmes, it appears we have finally discovered
the secret of your intelligence.
-But, sir... -You better come with me.
The fools! Their age has turned them to granite.
They refuse to listen to anyone but themselves.
I was certain they would take my record into consideration.
But, they did.
Unfortunately, it did more harm than good.
Seeing a record of that quality only managed to convince the board
that you'd been cheating all along.
-That's absurd. -Well, Holmes,
you were caught with the examination answers
in front of an entire classroom of students.
And to make matters worse, the answers were in your own handwriting.
An excellent job of forgery.
Who would have suspected Dudley could pull it off?
I can prove my innocence, if you would give me some time.
The board quoted the school motto
at least five times during the course of our meeting.
-"Honesty, probity and diligence." -Exactly!
In their eyes, you've committed the worst crime imaginable.
And I'm being given the worst punishment imaginable.
Expulsion.
Holmes, I will do everything within my power to help you.
I'll keep an eye out for this Dudley fellow,
and I'll write a sterling recommendation
that will get you into any school in England.
I appreciate that, sir.
And if there's anything else I can do...
Well, there is one thing.
One last duel?
Yes, sir.
Holmes, are you all right?
I'm fine. It's just a small cut.
I lost concentration for a moment.
I should have removed my ring. I'm sorry, it was an unfair distraction.
The match is yours.
Let's call it a draw.
Come, let Mrs. Dribb look at that wound.
There we are.
Thank you, Mrs. Dribb.
We're all going to miss you around here, Mr. Holmes.
Come on, giddyap.
Dudley's going to pay dearly for this.
Punch to the jaw! Jab to the ribs!
Now, now, Watson, revenge is sweetest when it's served up cold. Come.
Holmes!
You did this!
You're responsible, aren't you?
So that's where I dropped my chemistry experiment!
Into your tea!
Don't worry, old chap. It will wear off shortly.
You should be back to normal, by summertime.
Chestnuts, hot chestnuts!
Get your chestnuts!
Chestnuts.
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
-Is your brother expecting you? -I'll break the news to him when I arrive.
Get 'em off me!
Get them off me!
Get 'em off me, please! Get 'em off!
-Get it off! -No, sir, no!
So, this is goodbye.
I really expected us to become good friends.
What's going on?
Sir! You dropped this!
Eh Tar.
He just seemed to go mad!
He snatched up a knife and stabbed himself!
Eh Tar, Holmes.
Eh Tar.
Sir... No!
-Please, no! -Holmes!
I might have known.
Mr. Lestrade, this has something to do with what we talked about.
Get these two schoolchildren away from here!
-Come on. -Mr. Lestrade, you've got to listen to me!
Man that is born of a woman
has but a short time to live...
A few days later, they buried Professor Waxflatter.
I had never been to a funeral before,
though, unfortunately, I've been to many since.
Holmes could not publicly attend the funeral.
His expulsion from Brompton prevented such a thing.
The death of his mentor and friend had taken its toll on Sherlock Holmes.
In my entire life, I have only seen Holmes cry on two occasions.
Today was the first.
No.
Uncle didn't kill himself.
He didn't?
-Then, what happened? -He was murdered.
-Holmes, what are you doing here? -Excuse my entrance.
I had to climb up the fire escape. I can't afford to be seen.
I only got halfway to Mycroft's home. I had something gnawing at my insides.
I ordered the driver to turn round.
I'm going to miss him too, Elizabeth.
He was very important to me.
I'm so glad you're here.
I had to come back.
Do you really believe Uncle was murdered?
I'm certain of it.
Come on now, Holmes. You saw Waxflatter's hand on the knife!
You heard the shopkeeper's story. It was obviously a suicide!
Never trust the obvious, Watson.
There are too many puzzling elements to all of this.
Firstly, a man hurls himself out of a window.
Second, a reverend throws himself under an oncoming carriage,
all for no apparent reason.
And then Waxflatter stabs himself,
which seems completely unbelievable to all of us.
And then another question.
Why should Waxflatter be so obsessed with their deaths?
Yes, he'd saved those newspaper clippings,
and he was always meeting with that odd man.
Do you remember him?
That man attended the funeral. Do you know his name?
No. Whenever he came to visit,
Uncle would just usher me out of the attic.
I asked him about him, but he'd just change the subject.
In some way, that man is connected to all three murders.
We must find out who he is!
You've both been reading too many detective novels.
This is not fiction, Watson.
There's a clever murderer on the loose, and I'm going to find him.
-How? -I'll live here. Work here.
-If that's all right with you. -Yes.
What if we're found?
Only the three of us know that I'm here.
Someone may see you leaving, or coming in.
I'll take my chances.
But you'll need food, supplies.
Me?
I can't.
You can run errands for me, work as my assistant.
I might get caught. And that would mean trouble!
Trouble? You'd let trouble ruin an opportunity for adventure?
I can't afford to jeopardize my medical career.
Weasel.
I'm not a weasel.
- I am practical. -Weasels are practical.
And I imagined you courageous, stout of heart.
I am courageous. And I'm stout of heart.
It's just that...
All right, I'll do it.
Thank you, Watson.
Uncle would have wanted you to have this.
-But I-- -Please.
Put it on.
On second thought, take it off. It looks very silly.
You can't wear hats.
I think it's very becoming.
-You're teasing. -No, seriously.
The following day, we set out to try to solve Waxflatter's murder.
But we had very little to go on. We only had two clues,
Waxflatters final words, "Eh Tar,"
and the blowpipe that was dropped at the scene of his death.
As we walked through the marketplace,
it occurred to me that when the cloaked figure ran off,
I had heard a peculiar jingling,
a jingling sound very much like the sound I heard in the library
on my first day at Brompton.
Holmes was intrigued,
and we decided to visit the school library later that night.
However, our first stop that day was at Engel's Curio Shop.
Nice. Oh, very nice.
Egyptian.
The markings, the design, that's Egyptian craftsmanship.
Well, I've only seen this particular type once before.
Where?
On jewelry, on sculptures. I had it here in the shop.
-But I sold the lot. -To whom?
An Egyptian.
Keeps some sort of tavern.
And his name?
Let's see...
You promised to purchase something.
-Watson, buy something. -Me?
-I'm short of funds right now. -Rubbish, you're not short of funds.
Watson, this is no time to be a penny-pincher.
That address could lead us to our killer.
-How much do I need to spend? -Just buy anything!
Why on earth did you buy a pipe?
-It looks distinguished. -It's perfectly ridiculous.
You'll see. I shall learn to smoke it, then you can't laugh.
You'll see.
What can I get for you boys? Drink, food, women?
-Do you have any soup? -Watson, please.
Are you the owner of this establishment?
Have you ever seen this before?
Rame Tep.
Rame Tep! Rame Tep!
Rame Tep!
-Is that the end of the song? -Where...
-Where did you get this from? -I happened upon it.
Go! Take it away! Get out of here!
Sir, it's very important. Could you tell us something about this?
Now, get out of my tavern,
or these words will be the last words you will ever hear!
Sir...
We're leaving. We're leaving.
Right up there, the top shelf. That's where I heard the sound.
Holmes, please hurry.
Do you know what happens when we're caught?
-Incredible! -Holmes, your voice, keep it down!
Sorry, Watson.
-My God, that is remarkable! -Holmes, please!
Oh, God. Oh, God.
What are my chances of medical school?
That quaint little office I've always dreamed of--
Watson, listen to this. "The care to preserve..."
Holmes went on to explain
that the Rame Tep were a fanatical group of religious followers of Osiris,
the Egyptian God of the Dead.
They were scorned by society
because of their distortion of traditional religious beliefs,
and their violent and sadistic rituals.
The Rame Tep use a blowpipe
and shoot a thorn into their chosen victim.
The thorn is dipped info a solution
made up of various plant and root extracts.
When the solution enters the bloodstream,
it causes the victim to experience very realistic,
nightmare-like hallucinations.
But we can be certain of one thing.
What's that?
The murderer is still here...
on school grounds.
My dear, that's quite a rash statement,
considering that this said jingling sound has been heard only once.
Twice.
Twice?
Remember a few nights ago in the courtyard?
Uncas heard a jingling sound like you described.
He took a piece of clothing from him. Well, it might still be here!
We must search every inch of this laboratory.
We must find that piece of clothing.
We immediately sprang info action,
searching every nook and cranny for the cloth.
I accidentally turned on one of Waxflatter's strange machines,
and not being at all mechanically minded,
I had the dickens of a time trying to turn the thing off.
I found it! I found it!
Holmes spent the entire night and the following day
studying, examining, scrutinizing the section of cloth.
He conducted experiment after experiment.
Not once did he stop for a rest.
His energy seemed boundless.
Following 18 straight hours of work, Holmes turned to Elizabeth and myself
and those four familiar words shot from his lips:
The game is afoot!
Holmes explained that the fabric was Egyptian in origin,
and contained so many warp threads and weft threads,
things that to this day I still don't understand.
He found that the cloth was stained with paraffin--
Paraffin manufactured exclusively at Froggit and Froggit,
located in the Wapping area of London, a dark and dangerous place.
And I turned to Holmes,
and I told him so in no uncertain terms!
Holmes, perhaps we should come back in the morning when it's lighter,
and when there are more people.
-It's open. -Holmes, wait.
-What if the murderer's inside? -Then I shall introduce myself to him.
I knew it. There's no one here. Back to school, eh?
Watson, you'll be on your own.
What do you suppose it is?
Some sort of Egyptian artwork?
Some sort of statue?
No, Watson, I'm afraid this is only the tip of the iceberg.
Oh, no!
This is an interesting development.
There must be a passageway inside.
I hear chanting.
Holmes, there's a door here!
Fancy him missing a door.
Watson, Elizabeth, over here.
It's some sort of temple.
I'm going down for a closer look.
Holmes, let's get out of here with our lives!
Stay here, I'll be back in a few minutes.
Stop! She's alive!
Get him! Get him!
Get him!
We got them!
Elizabeth!
Can you hear?
-Elizabeth! -Elizabeth!
What could have happened to her?
She might have been hit by a thorn.
Elizabeth!
I think I hear something.
You're right.
Please! Please, Uncle, no! Don't!
Please! Help me! No!
-Elizabeth! -No!
-Please! Please help! -Help me tie her down.
-What with? -My scarf! Get my scarf. Quickly!
I don't want to die!
It's not real. It's a hallucination!
-Help me! -Listen to me, it's not real!
It's a nightmare. You're hallucinating! Wake up!
Wake up! You've got to wake up!
-It's not real! -No, Uncle!
-You're hallucinating. -No!
-Listen to me! -Please!
It's a hallucination!
-Elizabeth, listen to me! -Please don't, no!
Now, Watson...
-Watson? -Please don't!
Dear God, not Watson too.
-Please! -Watson?
Watson!
Get 'im, get 'im, get 'im!
No.
Yummy, yummy, yummy.
Please don't cry, Mother. Please!
Don't you understand, Mother? Can't you hear me?
Can't you hear what I'm saying? Mother!
You! This is all your fault, son. How could you do such a thing to me?
To your own father! Spying on me.
Forgive me, Father, please. I didn't realize...
My private life is my own! Your mother need never have known!
Mother.
No, no, no! This is not real!
This is not real!
It's just a hallucination. It's only in my mind.
It's only a hallucination.
Maybe not!
No. No. Please, no!
Stay right there, or I'll blow your bleedin' heads off!
I've convinced him to drop the charges.
Now, Holmes, you and your little friends have cost me a night's sleep.
-But please, good morning. -Mr. Lestrade,
these religious fanatics are responsible for God knows how many deaths.
And I have good reason to believe that they're also responsible
for the four young girls who mysteriously disappeared last month.
I beg of you, begin an investigation!
Based on what, your imagination?
A great detective relies on perception, intelligence and imagination.
Where'd you get that rubbish from?
It's framed on the wall behind you.
Oh, gosh.
Damn it, Holmes!
I really don't see why I should have to explain my actions to you.
I've spent seven years at Scotland Yard studying, analyzing hundreds of cases.
And you, with your background of school books and newspaper headlines,
you consider that you know more than me.
I despise your arrogance!
And I despise your laziness.
Out! All of you. Simply leave.
If you have any investigative power in you at all,
you'll have someone test these.
Maybe then you'll be convinced.
Out, Holmes!
Blast.
Holmes, could you please stop that infernal tinkering?
I still have a headache from those hallucinations.
Tinkering helps me think.
Sleep helps me think.
There's no time for sleep, Watson. We've got to keep working.
We've got to find clues,
something that could link Waxflatter with the Rame Tep.
I've got a picture here.
Clues, Watson. I want clues, not art critiques!
Clues. What do you think I've been doing for the past hour?
Yes, Mr. French Pastry, I have nothing whatsoever to say to you.
I trust you have nothing to say to me.
Watson! Watson, what have you done with that painting?
Do you realize what you've found?
-Waxflatter as a young man? -Not just that.
Bentley Bobster, Duncan Nesbitt, Rupert Waxflatter.
All of these men have died recently except this man,
this is Chester Cragwitch!
He was here in the window and at the funeral.
He's the only man in this group who's still alive!
Good Lord. This is the clue we've been looking for.
We're getting there, Watson.
We're going to solve this crime. Good show, Watson!
Holmes,
I did not expect our foils to cross so soon.
How did you know I was hiding in Waxflatter's laboratory?
You're forgetting we share the same keen powers of observation.
You wanted to see me, sir?
Yes, I shall be needing your assistance with these students.
Mr. Holmes, I thought you'd gone.
We were all under the same impression, Mrs. Dribb.
Now, unfortunately, Mr. Holmes is in a rather awful mess.
If the board knew of this, they would probably have you arrested,
and then you'll be sent to prison.
But there's no need to tell the board.
Holmes, I'm willing to forget about all of this.
Tomorrow, you will go home as originally planned.
-Watson, you will do the same. -I'm being expelled, sir?
Watson, if I were to take this before the board,
you would be summarily expelled.
This will save you any such disgrace.
Elizabeth, did you permit Mr. Holmes
to stay in your uncle's study these past few days?
Yes.
Oh, dear.
I find that extremely unladylike behavior in one so young.
Indeed.
Sir, may I suggest that we have the dog taken to the pound?
What?
I believe other schools do not allow pets.
You can't take him away!
Well, perhaps, in the circumstances, I should take care of him myself.
Holmes, it grieves me that you've taken advantage of my friendship.
I think that it is now time to dispose of everything
in the Waxflatter laboratory.
But, sir, the laboratory is filled with Mr. Waxflatter's inventions,
his drawings, his experiments.
We mustn't cling to things of the past.
-It's the man's whole life's work! -And his life is over.
-You have no right! -Mr. Holmes!
I'm surprised at your tone of voice, especially with me!
I apologize. I got a bit carried away, I'm sorry.
Take your seat.
You'll have to stay here overnight.
We cannot furnish transportation at this late hour.
Mrs. Dribb, place the boys in 14B,
and keep the young lady in your adjoining room.
Holmes,
remember what I always taught you.
Control your emotions, or they will be your downfall.
Yes, sir.
I knew it.
It's the end of my medical career.
Father's going to be furious.
I always suspected becoming a friend of yours would end in disaster.
What are you doing?
Are you trying to get us arrested?
-We can leave now. -I'm staying here.
Please, I need you, Watson. We're in this together. We're a team.
Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, wake up!
This is Chester Cragwitch.
The man who visited Uncle.
The one you said ran from the funeral.
Exactly.
But doesn't it strike you as odd that he's the only surviving member of this group?
Now, Elizabeth, you go back to laboratory
and salvage as many of your uncle's formulas and inventions as you can.
We'll meet you there.
First, we've got to get ourselves out of here.
-Watson. -Yes?
Holmes!
Be careful tonight.
This is too much.
Go away, Rame Tep!
Bloody murderers, go away!
You won't get me!
Sir! Mr. Cragwitch!
We were friends of Mr. Waxflatter.
I know you.
You're the youngster that followed me at the cemetery.
Go away! I'm a dangerous man to be around!
I need your help.
I want to know why the Rame Tep killed five men.
Go in.
You can get up now, Watson.
The war's over.
We were to become business partners, all six of us.
We borrowed money from our fathers to build a hotel.
It would be the most luxurious hotel ever conceived.
And where better to build...
than Egypt?
Labor and materials were inexpensive, and only a few years earlier,
the British Army had driven out the French.
It seemed a land of extreme opportunity.
What happened?
We engaged an architect, and the work began.
But what started out as a business venture...
soon became a major archaeological find.
We discovered an underground pyramid.
The ancient tombs of five Egyptian princesses.
We removed all the relics and treasures,
preparing to send them to England,
but--
Bloody insect.
Place needs a good cleaning.
There was an uproar.
All the villagers in the area
were convinced we'd desecrated sacred ground.
Our lives were in danger.
The British sent the troops in, several people were killed.
The entire village was burned to the ground.
Burnt...
Fire!
-Mr. Cragwitch, are you all right? -Fire!
-They've hit Cragwitch with a thorn!
I'm burning! Fire! Fire!
Listen to me! Your name is Chester Cragwitch.
You're a banker. Can you hear me? Your name is Chester Cragwitch!
-Answer me, who are you? -My name is Cragwitch.
Chester Cragwitch.
I reside at Cragwitch Manor, Hampstead. Hampstead.
My God.
It was so real.
Real, so very real.
Yes. I mustn't forget.
I must pass on this information.
It is time someone else knew, everything!
The Egyptian village that had been burned to the ground.
Yes. Yes. Yes!
Luckily, we got out of Egypt with our lives.
When we returned to England, we went our separate ways,
all of us, however, keeping in frequent touch with Waxflatter
through regular correspondence.
When the murders began,
I met quite frequently with my dear friend.
What does all of this have to do with the Rame Tep?
Almost a year after the incident, each one of us received this letter.
It was sent by a young boy,
a young boy of Anglo-Egyptian descent.
You'll notice that the letterhead is adorned by the symbol of the Rame Tep,
two golden serpents.
The boy who wrote the letter, and his sister,
were staying in England with their grandfather
when they learned of the destruction of the Egyptian village,
the village which was their home.
Both their parents were killed in the attack.
The boy vowed when he grew to manhood,
that the Rame Tep would take their revenge
and replace the bodies of the five Egyptian princesses.
And the boy was called Eh Tar?
"Eh Tar." Those were Waxflatter's final words!
-Very good, Watson. -Eh Tar!
You filthy murderer. You wanted to kill all of us.
Well, you won't kill me.
Watson, speak to him!
What? Your name is Craggy Critch... Your name is...
-What's his name? -Cragwitch.
Mr. Lestrade!
What are you doing here?
I accidentally stuck myself with one of those damn thorns.
The hallucinations... Ghastly.
It took four policemen to stop me hanging myself.
Anyway, when it was over, I thought I'd better look into your story.
Now Holmes, I wish you and your podgy little friend farewell.
I appreciate you getting me started on the case.
Getting him started on the case? Imagine that, Watson.
I've only done all the work for him.
It's you!
Yes, my dear.
Mr. Rathe, you must stop her, she's a murderer!
So, my dear, you've discovered our little secret.
Where are your two friends?
You'll never find them. You'll never find them.
What shall we do with her?
She'll come with us.
We need a fifth princess.
Holmes, I know the answer to the riddle.
The bear is white!
Good for you, Watson. Do you know why?
Well...
No. It was the one color I didn't choose.
Keep thinking, Watson. Answers without evidence are useless.
This riddle is going to give me a headache.
Eh Tar... Eh Tar...
Can't you think of anything else?
-It's necessary. -It is annoying.
This silly bear puzzle, Holmes,
I can't work it out.
I know the bear is white, but I don't know why.
I'm not stupid or anything.
Watson, you've got to think the whole thing through.
Take it apart, piece by piece.
Your face is bleeding again.
This cut from Rathe's ring never seems to heal.
The bear is white because--
Oh, God!
How could I be so stupid?
What?
It's Rathe, Watson. It's Rathe!
Giddyap!
Come on!
Faster!
Giddyap! Giddyap, there!
Rathe's got Elizabeth!
There's only one way to catch them in time.
-How? -Come on!
Where are we going?
This is madness, Holmes!
If we're to get to the warehouse in time, it's our only chance, Watson.
Waxflatter worked on it until the day he died,
and I've done a little tinkering of my own.
Hopefully, all the problems are sorted out.
Coming, Watson?
Oh, dear.
What have I got myself into?
The adventure of a lifetime, Watson.
Uncas, pull!
-It works, Watson, it works! -We're flying!
-Would you believe it, Watson? -We're flying!
Faster! Giddyap!
Faster!
Holmes, down there!
Holmes, look out!
My God, it's nearly half past 12:00!
-I've just realized something. -What?
I have absolutely no idea how to land this machine!
-Hold tight, Watson! -I'm holding!
This time we're going to crash!
Hurry, Holmes, we're sinking back here!
All right!
Oh, my God, they're going to kill her.
Elizabeth.
I don't know what to do.
There are two of us and a hundred of them.
What can we do?
Perhaps something we've learned at school can apply to this.
Watson, for goodness' sake.
Well, I can't think of anything.
You're always so sure of yourself. Why don't you think of something?
Watson, that's not helpful.
Sorry.
Why can't I think of anything?
You're flustered. You must calm down!
-Well, why can't you think of anything? -I'm flustered!
Watson,
I've got it.
We must create a diversion.
Create a diversion?
Yes, why didn't I think of that.
If my geometry serves me correctly,
one beam misplaced will bring down this whole thing like a house of cards.
Watson, I have a plan.
Hurry. Hurry, Holmes!
Holmes!
Holmes, look out!
Holmes, are you all right?
Watson, get her out of here!
Oh, no.
Holmes!
Holmes, Rathe has taken Elizabeth and the stairs are blocked.
What should I do?
Go around the other way, Watson! You must stop him!
Holmes!
Holmes! Holmes!
No!
What am I going to do?
No!
Giddyap!
Good show, Watson.
Elizabeth, are you all right?
Yeah, I think so.
Please.
What are we going to do about Rathe?
Where is he?
He's gone.
The police will find him.
Elizabeth.
Strange.
Let's just go back now.
Well, I don't know how I'm going to explain all this to my parents.
Don't worry, it will all be explained in tomorrow's papers.
Do you think they will let you come back to school now?
I don't know. Perhaps. We'll have to find out.
Holmes!
No!
-Damn! -Elizabeth!
Elizabeth.
Watson, put my coat around her.
Where are you going?
I'm going to get him.
Holmes, you'll be killed!
Eh Tar!
You're nothing but a damned fraud!
And you, Holmes, are letting your emotions get the better of you again.
You cannot best me, Holmes. Throw down your sword.
Never. I would rather die a gruesome and horrible death.
Very well. Then I will oblige.
Come, Holmes, is this the best you can do?
You fight like an undernourished child! I've already won the battle!
You've lost every battle, Eh Tar, this will be no exception.
All of your dreams have been shattered!
Your temple, the Rame Tep, everything has been destroyed forever!
Elizabeth. Elizabeth.
Yes, Holmes, let's tarry a while longer,
as your Elizabeth's precious lifeblood flows from her body.
Elizabeth, come on. Elizabeth, wake up. Open your eyes.
Elizabeth.
Don't be sad.
Someday, we'll be reunited.
In another world. A much better world.
I'll be waiting.
And you'll be late... as always.
Elizabeth, no.
No.
Elizabeth.
No.
Elizabeth.
Would you believe it?
You'd think he'd uncovered the entire case on his own.
Exactly. That's what he wanted the Yard to believe.
What other reason would they have for giving him a promotion?
Bye, Uncas.
Stay there, Uncas. I'll be back in a minute.
You know, Holmes, a few things still haunt me.
When did you first begin to suspect that Rathe was involved with the Rame Tep?
When Waxflatter first retired, the board wanted him to leave the school.
But Rathe argued and fought until he convinced the board
to let Waxflatter remain within the school grounds.
It seemed strange to me.
I could never understand why Rathe wanted Waxflatter to stay.
He was fond of Waxflatter's inventions?
What is the matter with you?
Have you been asleep through this entire case?
Sorry.
Holmes went on to explain
that Rathe spent years plotting his revenge.
He established himself as a respected member of British society,
completely erasing his former identity.
It took him a great deal of time to organize his followers,
made up of the poor, the homeless, the lost souls of the London streets.
And then of course, it took time to build a wooden replica of the pyramid.
Mrs. Dribb was the Rame Tep's chief assassin,
but, more importantly, she was Rathe's younger sister.
Amazing, Holmes, simply amazing.
Of course, you did forget one very important clue.
Please enlighten me.
Well, "Rathe" is "Eh Tar™ spelled backwards.
Very clever, Watson.
Well, I'm certain I would have arrived at that conclusion sooner or later.
Sooner or later.
Are you coming back after the holidays?
No, I'll transfer.
There are too many memories here.
Holmes, you have your entire life ahead of you.
And I'll spend it alone.
Merry Christmas, Holmes.
I thought you might have more luck smoking it.
Well?
It does seem to suit you.
But that coat...
Why do you insist on wearing that ridiculous cloak
of that unspeakable person?
Consider it a trophy, Watson. The skin of a leopard.
Indeed.
I'm going to miss you, Watson.
I'm going to miss you too, Holmes.
-You know, you were right about something. -About what?
It was the adventure of a lifetime.
Holmes, wait! I know why the bear is white!
And why is that, Watson?
Well, the only room with an all-southern view
would be on the North Pole. It's a polar bear!
Bravo, Watson.
You have the makings of a great detective.
As I watched Holmes settle into his seat,
a sudden feeling came over me,
that I would most certainly be seeing him again.
So ended my first adventure with Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
As I watched his carriage disappear info the distance,
I realized that I had forgotten to thank him.
He had taken a weak, frightened boy
and made him info a courageous, strong man.
My heart soared. I was filled with confidence.
I was ready for whatever mystery or danger lay ahead.
I was ready to take on the greatest and most exciting adventure of them all.
And I knew it was bound to involve Sherlock Holmes.
Can I help you?
I'd like a room, please.
Please, sir, to sign here.